Love and Space Dust
by PonderingTheUniverse17
Summary: Set during series 9. After their adventures, and sometimes during them, the Doctor and Clara take advantage of the little moments. Moments they both will never forget.
1. Same Old, Same Old

_Do you know what's rarer? Second chances._

The sound of Clara taking a sip of her cup of hot chocolate took the Doctor out of his thoughts. The TARDIS had it especially made for them, along with the fireplace that was the only source of light within the library. He felt that he couldn't help that his Time Lord brain still couldn't fathom that she was curled up by his side. He'd wanted to scan himself to see if he was truly dreaming. Clara would never admit it, but she wanted to do the same.

"Did the TARDIS really make this especially for us?" Clara asked.

"You couldn't get better hot chocolate anywhere else," he said.

"No, I meant all of this," she said. "The fireplace, the hot chocolate, the presents under the tree…"

"Well, why wouldn't she do all of this for you?" he remarked.

"For me?"

The baffled look plastered on her face mirrored his from earlier. He smirked, the burning sensation of where her lips had touched continued to tickle. _Of course this is all for you, Clara!_ His thoughts screamed. Everything was always for her. Everything was hers! Every star, every universe, and every particle of his being belonged to her. One of his eyebrows seemed to rise in disbelief, as if agreeing with him.

"We just wanted to welcome you back home the best way she could," he said.

"We?"

"Yes," he said. "We as in myself and the TARDIS."

"Oh."

She had no idea what to say. There was no longer a doubt that he truly wanted her to stay with him. _Am I home?_ The question rang in her mind once again. No, no, this wasn't like any other thing she could just ponder on. This was her and the Doctor she was thinking about. _If you want it to be._ She wanted it to be. Oh, and it was.

"I am home," she declared unexpectedly, her voice too soft for him to hear.

"What?"

"I'm home," she repeated with pride.

She shifted her head from his arm to his shoulder to get a good look at him. Never had she seen his face so lit up before. It appeared to her that the lights on the Christmas tree had some competition.

"Clara Oswald," he beamed. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," she said.

Without a warning, the TARDIS let out a hum and snapped them out of their trance. They both looked up at the ceiling in unison.

"What the hell was that for?"

"Ever since you've been back, she hasn't stopped bugging me…"

"About?"

"It's nothing, Clara."

"Doctor, tell me," she begged, her inflated eyes doing wonders on him.

His hearts sped up a notch as he reached in the pocket of his hoodie. His hands fumbled with the box. _Just do it, idiot!_ He could hear the TARDIS say. She'd made it for him after all, perfecting the shade of the box to match herself. Shaking, he took it out of his pocket and gripped onto it. _Breathe, just breathe._

"Clara," he began. "You've always been more than my Impossible Girl. You're my constant…companion."

"Am I?"

"Yes," he continued. "Clara, will you do me the honor of being- I mean of becoming-"

He once again fumbled while opening the box. A gasp escaped from Clara. She covered her mouth, blinking her eyes rapidly as she couldn't believe what she was seeing. The ring was the same shade of silver as his hair and she could swear that within the deep blue of the diamond, there were stars twinkling. This time, she didn't have to think for the answer.

 _He was impossible._

"Yes," she blurted out.

She was unable to suppress her giggle as he let out a sigh of relief. He took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her finger. The TARDIS hummed contentedly, her work finally done.

"Let's do this like we've done everything else," she said, intertwining her hands with his.

"Together," he said, finishing her sentence.

She put his lips to his.

 _Same old, same old._


	2. When Do I Not See You?

_Make it up to me._

He'd tried the moment they stepped back into the TARDIS, from kissing her wounds on her forehead to offering her the best wine in the galaxy. However, nothing appeared to work. There was an emptiness in her eyes that wouldn't go away. _Maybe she's just tired_ , he thought. They didn't speak as he led her to their bedroom.

Within the walls of the bedroom, the Doctor found the silence to be too much. After settling in under the covers, Clara was unusually quiet next to him. Uneasiness grew in the pit of his stomach. She turned away from him and faced the wall, taking in a sharp breath as noiselessly as she could.

"Clara?" He whispered.

"Hm?"

"Are you- is everything ok?"

 _Stupid, stupid Doctor. Why would she be ok?_ It had merely been a few hours since he almost killed her. _Almost, nearly_. He couldn't hate himself more if he tried.

"Yeah," she said, her voice breaking. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I almost killed you today," he said.

"Almost means you didn't."

"Almost is too close for comfort," he muttered. She turned over to face him.

"No," she said. "You don't get to blame yourself for it." Her cheeks were wet with the fresh tears that rolled down them. His body screamed at him to wipe them away, but he felt like the smallest touch would break her.

"There's no one else to blame for what happened today."

"Yes, there is," she said. "I chose to follow you and listen to Missy."

"Both of which were mistakes."

"Nothing with you is ever a mistake."

He huffed at her words. He couldn't believe that she thought it. She shot him a glare that silenced him before he could let out another sound.

"What was that for?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said. "It's just that I can't believe you don't think marrying me was a mistake."

"Why would it be?"

"I'm a daft old man in an ancient blue box."

"And your point is?"

"I'm daft. And an old man."

"You idiot," she said, moving close enough to him so their foreheads could touch. "Those are a couple of reasons why I married you."

"Are they?" He asked, his eyebrows raised quizzically.

"Yes."

A smile finally broke across her face, causing the uneasiness in his stomach to fade. Sitting up, he gently took her left hand into his and began kissing each and every one of her fingers. He was tender with every brush against her skin. It was so fragile and soft. _So human_. Too human to be Dalek. It wasn't cold and empty like a Dalek's casing. No, it wasn't like that at all. He could feel the energy of every cell in her body, the warmth of her blood from her beating heart to the veins that flowed through her fingers. She sparked with life.

"Did you think part of you knew I was in the Dalek all along?" she asked. He lifted his lips from her ring finger, but never released her hand from his.

"I'd know you anywhere," he said, playing with the ring on her finger. "Besides, it wasn't the first time she'd lied to me."

"We'll find Gallifrey," she said. She sat up and rested her head on his shoulder. Her eyes reached his. Emptiness no longer filled those eyes of hers. Instead, they were full of hope. "Together."

"And I'll always see you, no matter where you are and everywhere I go."

"If you say so."

 _Oh, Clara. He thought._

 _When do I not see you?_


	3. A Duty of Care

_If you love me in any way, you'll come back._

Her legs dangled from the doors of the TARDIS as she stared at the distant Earth in front of her. The strumming sound of the electric guitar filled the TARDIS. It sounded new, nothing like she'd heard before.

He was facing the console, eyes closed, his thoughts focused on the song he was practicing. His thoughts were on Clara, like usual. Part of him wished that she knew it was for her, but it had to be a surprise. He'd tell her someday that it was for her. Someday.

He stopped playing and let his hands fall from the strings of the guitar as he felt her arms wrap around him.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?" he asked.

"Coming back to me," she said. She stood on her toes to rest her head on his shoulder.

"It was nothing," he said. "Really."

"Not dying on me is everything!" she blurted out.

 _Not with me! Die with whoever comes after me, you do not leave me!_

He tensed up, her plea still fresh in his mind.

"I'm sorry," she said, moving away from him. "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that." He grabbed her arm as she started to walk away from him.

"I understand why you said it," he said. "Why you doubted me."

"I don't want to be left behind, you know," she said. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life without you." She turned around, her eyes avoiding his. He pulled her towards him, letting her arms wrap around him once again. The touch of his long, warm hands rubbing up and down her back soothed her.

"Clara Oswald," he began, his voice soft and low. "You will never spend the rest of your life alone."

She nodded against his chest, the smallest of smiles tugging at her lips. He pressed his lips to her forehead and continued down her to neck. She couldn't suppress her giggle much longer. His hands made their way to her shoulders as she pulled away from him.

"You know, you should let me wear your specs more often," she said.

"And why is that?" he asked.

"Because they looked good on me," she said, fluttering her lashes. "And you got a kick out of me wearing them."

"I did not," he said, dropping his arms from her shoulders and folding them across his chest.

"Whatever you say," she said as she walked towards the other side of the console. She tinkered around with a few buttons, making sure that he'd see her lips form into a pout. It took everything in her to not laugh as he walked towards her, giving her a once-over before he was no longer in her view.

His footsteps stopped behind her and she could feel his warm breath on her neck. Shivers ran up and down her spine, the sensation making it harder for her to fake her disappointment. She pressed her lips together to fight the growing smirk on her face. However, she lost the fight the moment he wrapped his arms around her waist. He rested his chin on her head and tightened his hold on her.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. They both had a duty to each other, she realized.

 _A duty of care._


	4. You Are My World

_The sky is crying now. Fire in the water. Fire in the water…_

The golden light from the sunset slowly faded into a sky full of stars. The sound of the thunder had died down, a calm spreading across the village. They denied the villagers request to stay in one of their best available homes, as they didn't want to miss out on a beautiful starry night.

Nearly losing her to the Mire weighed heavily on his mind. He loved using the opportunity to point out every constellation to her, as it was a nice distraction from his terrible thoughts.

"You're doing the right thing by staying here," Clara said, interrupting him and nudging his chest.

"Staying here is a good thing," he said. _Am I doing a good thing?_ He couldn't help but ask himself. "It doesn't mean it's the right thing."

"You know it's the right thing," she said. "It always is."

"Oh, Clara," he began. "We'll just have to let time tell us if _every_ good thing I do deserves to be called the right thing to do."

"Well, time is telling me that I need to sleep," she said. She moved close enough to him to rest her head on his chest, right where his hearts were. He automatically wrapped his arms around her as if they were already resting peacefully in the TARDIS. No matter how many times he denied it, he was a cuddler. It was just for Clara. Only Clara.

"Clara?" he whispered.

"What?" she asked.

"I almost lost you today."

 _Every time we do something like this, I keep thinking, "What if something happens to you?"_

That's how he lived his life with her. That's how he'd always live it. With or without her. Constantly thinking of the next loss to face. It was inevitable. No matter how many times he's endured the pain, he still seemed to find it fresh. His hearts might as well have been the peaks of a mountain range. Weathered by the rain, chipped by the wind. Jagged and rough, but nothing like stone.

"I know," she replied. "Don't think about that now." He let out a long sigh and looked down at her. Every ounce of his being was devoted to her, including her impossible demands. She placed her hand on his cheek, letting her thumb trace the line of his jaw. He leaned into her touch, the ache in his hearts subsiding at the brush of her skin on his.

"Yes, Boss."

"Goodnight Doctor," she whispered. He took her hand from his cheek and pressed his lips against her palm. She didn't respond, the sound of her breath evening out signaling to him that she had fallen asleep.

"Goodnight, my Clara."

The thunder that had died down began to intensify. He could imagine the Mire forging their weapons, the thirst for victory running through their veins. Clara trembled beside him as a sudden boom shook the ground beneath them. He held onto her tighter than before, knowing that it wasn't the noise or the shaking causing her to stir. His name faintly left her lips, her voice quivering.

His hearts thumped harder against his chest. He wanted to tell her the words he couldn't say, the promises he'd fail to keep. He had the urge to wake her up and tell her the words he'd failed to look her in the eyes and say. He saw other worlds but none of them compared to her.

 _You are my world._


	5. I Won't Be Able to Breathe

_She might meet someone she can't bear to lose. That happens, I believe._

The hum of the ship filled the silence between them. He was still on the stairs, sadness clouding his features. She was hesitant as she sat down behind him on the stairs, knowing he wasn't ready to talk yet. It was like time had stopped and his body was as still as a statue. The humming faded away. The soundless room was anything but serene.

He buried his face into his hands, letting his shoulders slump. She moved forward to rest her head on his shoulder, letting her arms wrap around his chest. He could feel himself crumbling under her touch.

"I'm here," she said softly into his ear. "Right here, right now."

He fought hard against the tears that welled up in his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to cling onto the warmth of her skin and to beg her to never let go. Part of him was scared that she'd fade away on him at any moment, like a ghost.

Little did she know she would be one someday, haunting him during his every waking moment.

"I wanted to keep it," he whispered, lifting his head up from his shaking hands. "The second medical kit."

"For me?"

He nodded.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to use it, but I already knew what your answer would be," he said unsteadily.

They both knew. They always knew what the answer would be to such an offer. To such a burden.

"I may be a human," she began, unable to make her voice louder than a whisper. "But you aren't immortal either."

Deep down, she had wished that the both of them could've been human together, to be able to die at the same time. She could never ask him to stop being himself, to settle down with her.

Deep down, he had wished that the both of them could've been Time Lords together, to be able to die at the same time. He could never ask her to stop being herself, to travel forever with her.

 _I'll get in my box and I'll run and I'll run, in case all the pain ever catches up._

"Till death do us part," he said.

"Till death do us part."

She rose her head up from his shoulder and brought her lips to his cheek. He found himself smiling despite the ache still throbbing in his chest. This time, her touch didn't dull out the raw, agonizing pain that tore through him. It didn't dull it out enough to make him forget those thoughts that preyed upon his mind at every waking moment.

"How about I go make us some tea and meet you back in our room?" she asked.

"How about I help you? To help get my mind off things?" he said.

"Alright," she said. She stood up and offered her hand to him. He took it without hesitation, squeezing it as if his life depended on it.

She couldn't help but smirk when he stood up, as they were the same height thanks to the stairs. He rested his forehead on hers, letting his eyes close.

 _I won't be able to breathe._


	6. I'm Not Going Anywhere

_Somewhere Magical._

That was Clara's request this time around, and of course, he wouldn't say no to it. However, he felt that she didn't know that she was just as magical to him as any adventure was to her.

He couldn't help but to stare at her as the sparkle in her eye grew when the TARDIS wheezed away. Her smile was warmer than the sun and brighter than the birth of a star. Her life would be exactly like a star, his Clara. She'd blow away like smoke, just as Ashildr said.

"Doctor, what's wrong?"

He had hoped that she wouldn't notice, but it was already too late. She was _his_ Clara after all. She had already placed herself by his side. He continued to stare at the spot where she had been previously standing.

 _Don't worry, daft old man._

"It's nothing, Clara," he said, forcing his lips to curl up into a smile.

"Then look at me," she instructed. "In the eye."

Oh, those eyes. Just the mere thought of having to stare into them nearly made his hearts falter. His hearts that she owned. He wondered if she knew.

"Clara-"

"Do as you're told, please."

There was a pang of pain in her voice, as if she had already figured out what was wrong. Then she set her hand, her soft and human hand on top of his. Oh, she knew.

"You're a mayfly."

"I'm a what?"

He finally mustered up the courage to look at her. His hearts faltered and his breath hitched, those big brown eyes of hers reading him like an open book.

"You'll blow away like smoke," he whispered. "And leave me like all the others."

She squeezed his hand, letting the hum of the TARDIS fill the room for a few minutes.

"Doctor, we both know that I have to leave you at some point in time." she said. He nodded in response to the words he'd never stop hearing. "Let's forget about an adventure today."

"What about somewhere magical?"

"Somewhere magical can wait."

Before he knew it, she was pulling him along. They reached the top of the stairs when she pointed at his leather chair in front of them. She helped take his guitar off of him and gently set it beside the chair. He sat down in the chair without protest.

"Dim the lights for us, Old Girl," Clara said. The Doctor felt a genuine smile forming on his face as the TARDIS followed Clara's demands. It always made his hearts happy to see them getting along. "There's that smile," Clara said, settling herself on his lap.

"What smile?" he teased.

"The malfunctioning one." she said.

"Oh, Clara," he said. _With you, I'm always malfunctioning._

They sat in silence for a while as she ran her fingers through his soft, silver curls. He let himself look into her eyes. He didn't have to say a word and she'd know. She always knew.

He knew deep inside those two fragile hearts of his that happily ever after never meant forever.

He always knew.

 _I'm not going anywhere._


	7. Gotcha

_I'll be the judge of time._

A projection of clouds of violet and blue hung above them. When Clara squinted hard enough, she could see faint white dots that one could easily draw connections to. There were twelve of them to connect

"It's the Esox constellation," he told her. "The people on their planet believed that it was an image of their goddess."

"Their goddess is a stargazer lily?" she asked.

"Yes, but it's not called that in their language."

"Oh," said Clara. She wasn't sure what else to say. After he'd left her alone in the console room, she'd been lost for words. They always seemed to be at a loss for what to say to one another after near-death situations. That was their thing, she supposed.

She had found him laying down in their bed, the projection of a constellations above him. She had joined him, resting her head on his chest. She pushed herself up from it to look at him. He didn't avoid her eyes as he did in the console room. He let her see just how much pain it brought him for them to be apart, to hear that she was dead. She could swear that his eyes were glassy, but it was hard to tell under such dim lights.

Tears threatened to emerge from her own eyes. She could remember wanting nothing more but to go to him the moment she spotted him in the Black Archive. The air restricted from her lungs as the Zygons held her back. Absentmindedly, she traced her finger up and down his chest.

"What you did today was brave," she said.

"Brave? I was just doing my job," he said, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Baring your soul like that isn't your job," she said.

She was right, like always.

"I can't promise you that I will be here forever," she said. "But I promise that you will never hear any more screams as long as I'm alive."

"What I would give to spend forever with you," he said. "Clara Oswald." He gently pushed back a strand of hair from her face that had fallen.

"I blew into this world and I'll blow out of it," she said.

"Just like smoke," he whispered.

"We'll just have to see, won't we?" she said.

He picked up his sonic sunglasses from the bedside table and put them on. The clouds faded away and the stars moved as it buzzed. They burned brighter than the previous ones, though they were smaller. She took notice that they started to form a face. It wasn't until the buzzing stopped that a gasp left her lips. It wasn't just any face. It was her face.

"Doc-"

"I couldn't wait until our anniversary to show you," he said.

She couldn't put into words what it meant to have her face imprinted into the sky. To fathom the fact that she was in the sky. The wonder of others staring up at it filled her mind. The stars that formed out of the constellation had to have been ancient. More ancient than the Doctor himself. She let her gaze fall back into his eyes.

"Where is it?" she asked.

"Near Kasterborous."

"But how?"

He let out a soft chuckle and pulled her closer to him to whisper in her ear.

"That, my dear," he said. "Is a secret."

She lightly punched his chest, then snuggled deeper into it.

 _Gotcha._


	8. I Will Endure

_Beyond the unfolding of your smile, is there other kindness?_

He could hear her soft sobs from the other side of the door. It had exactly four weeks since it happened. Just merely a month since she was ripped from them. It had been four weeks of running and denial between them. She wasn't forgotten. It wasn't brushed aside. Just hidden. Burning within the both of them.

It was seared in his mind, the look of fear in her eyes as crimson covered the sheets. He couldn't bear to tell her the truth. The pain took over her body. Sweat covered her forehead. Her wails sounded within the room. Then, it was over. No cries were heard. Just silence.

He opened the door as quietly as he could. Her sobs were replaced by sniffles by the time he closed it. She was on the floor, clutching the pastel blanket to her chest. His knees wanted to buckle at seeing the room again. The unused nursery. The white crib stood out against the black on the wall. A lump formed in his throat at the sight of the white dots. He'd painted the constellations on it himself. The mobile of stars from his crib hung above what would've been hers slowly swung around in circles.

"Why are you in here?' she asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"You shouldn't be alone right now," he said.

"I deserve to be," she said as a bitter laugh escaped her lips. "After what I did."

"You didn't do anything," he said.

"I killed her, Doctor. She died because of me and my stupid human body!"

He sat down on the floor next to her. Gently, he cupped her face in his hands. "It's not your fault, nor is it mine," he began. "It just wasn't meant to be."

"Why?" she demanded as her voice broke.

"I don't know," he said.

"Tell me."

"I just did."

She shook her head, her mind unable to accept it.

 _There's nothing you can do._

But she had to.

"We'll see her again someday, yeah?" she asked. He used his thumb to wipe her tear stained cheeks.

"Of course we will," he said. He dropped his hands from her face and rested them on top of hers. "Wherever we go after this life, we'll be with her again." A faint smile curved across his lips. He stood up and extended his hand out to her. The weight of it all sat on her heavily but she wasn't going to carry it alone.

She grabbed his hand, a sharp breath escaping her lips as she stood on her feet. Her eyes wandered between the crib and the blanket still gripped in her hand.

"We have to soldier up and move on, don't we?" she asked.

"We have to heal. We may never truly move on, but we can't live like this forever."

She nodded and began stepping towards the crib. He kept his hands on her shoulders, having her back like always.

"We'll do this like we do everything else. Together." She set the blanket in it, smoothing it out with her fingers.

"Together," he agreed.

As they walked out of the room, they turned around to give it one last look.

 _I will endure._


	9. A Tidal Wave

_See, the mayflies, they know more than we do._

Moonlight from the open window bathed their bare skin. It had been well past midnight when he found himself tracing circles on her back. Every word he made sent a tingle down her spine. The weak, crisp wind that made its way into the room felt soothing against her glistening skin.

She couldn't sleep, no matter how hard she tried. The short amount of time in the Morpheus machine had cost her a night of sleep. She tossed and turned until she couldn't take it anymore.

"You ok?" he asked. Her eyes popped open to his piercing blue eyes looking directly into hers.

"Just having trouble sleeping, that's all," she replied.

"It'll wear off soon enough, but I can still keep you occupied in the meantime." She rolled her eyes, letting her hands wandered to his back, tracing circles back in return. "Seems like someone has a better grasp of Gallifreyan than I thought."

"You know I can grasp other things just as well," she said, a smirk slowly spreading across her lips. "You'd better be careful to underestimate me."

He tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. "Is that a threat, Miss Oswald?" His voice deep and smooth.

"Only if you want it to be, Doctor Disco." He leaned into her, his warm breath tickling her lips. She pulled away before they could touch. A discontented sigh escaped him as she moved off the bed. "I'll meet you on the balcony."

"Whatever you say, Boss."

The warmest water refused to induce her to sleep, let alone weaken her body. She stepped out of the shower more awake than ever. Her hate for the Morpheus only seemed to grow. With a groan, she threw on a robe and headed to the balcony.

She quietly walked through the rooms until she reached the door of the balcony. She stopped, in awe of the man in front of her. Her husband. Her Doctor. Somewhere deep within her, she wished that time could stop so he could keep standing there, looking beautiful. She noiselessly made her way to him, wrapping her arms around his chest. After a long night, she finally felt at ease snuggling up against the fabric of his jacket.

 _I'm ok. I'm not._

"What does my ring say?"

"Hm?"

She moved to his side and held up her left hand. The gold engraving of the Gallifreyan shimmered from the moonlight, standing out against the silver of the ring. "My wedding ring. I can't seem to translate it like everything else."

"That's only because I haven't taught you yet." His nose wrinkled as he let out a small laugh. "They're words that are the hardest for any species to say."

"Why are they hard to say? Because it'll make it real?"

"No, because once you say it, you lose them."

She nuzzled her head into his shoulder, letting the warmth of his body console her. A tiredness that wasn't there before abruptly swept over her as he put his arms around her. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't ignore the heaviness, a certain uneasiness that settled in her heart. She clung onto his arm as the feeling told hold of her. Something was coming.

 _A tidal wave._


	10. Stay With Me

_Let me be brave._

She told him, promised him, that he would never hear screams ever again. She didn't keep that promise. He could still hear her screams, echoing in every corner of his hearts. That is what was left of them. The pain was piercing as the cracks widened with every second ticking by. They weren't made of stone like he thought.

No, they were made of glass.

Cold. Fragile.

Shattered.

"Cl-Clara," he croaked out.

His knees gave out from under him as he sank to the floor beside the bed. Her body there, too still and peaceful.

He was desperate for her warming touch. For her delicate, human skin to be against his. He picked up her hand as gently as he could. It was cold and empty. He couldn't feel the energy of every cell in her body, the warmth of her blood from her beating heart to the veins that flowed through her fingers. Her life ceased. A flame suddenly blown out.

Just like their daughter.

Frail.

Colorless.

Gone.

 _I should've take care of you._

A tremor engulfed him when he struggled to sit on the edge of the bed. He found it hard to be tender, his hands trembling as he cradled her body against his chest. No longer could he keep the writhing pain burning in his hands. It scarred him, the flames lashing out across his body. He couldn't hold back the wrenching sob that escaped him.

He couldn't breathe.

 _Everything you are about to say._

"I-"

 _I already know._

She already knew.

" _Why are they hard to say? Because it'll make it real?"_ She had once asked him.

" _No, because once you say it, you lose them."_ He replied.

He didn't even have to say it lose her.

Those three impossible words to his impossible girl.

Wife.

Friend.

Companion.

Clara.

"How did you stop the pain, Clara?" he asked. "When we lost her?"

Silence.

" _Let me hold her," she asked. Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. "Please." Her eyes were puffy and red after all the tears she has shed. He couldn't feel a bone in his body as he set their daughter in her arms. She was small but so perfect. She looked just like her mother. He'd never know if she had her eyes. Letting his eyes close, he wrapped his arms around her, desperate for relief. Relief that wouldn't come. "Lenore."_

" _What?"_

" _Let's name her Lenore."_

 _He felt her shaking as she pressed her lips to their daughter's head._

" _Why that name?"_

" _She's an angel in Heaven now."_

He didn't know how long it had been until the tears finally stopped. Time didn't matter. Not anymore.

He couldn't feel.

He was utterly numb.

He set her back on the bed as carefully as he could. Out of habit, he brushed a piece of her hair away from her face. He didn't want to leave her but he had no choice.

"I have to go Clara," he said. His legs slightly shook as he stood up from the bed. "I don't know where I'll be, but promise me one thing for me?"

 _Anything._ he could hear her say.

"Stay with me."

 _Stay with me_.


	11. Between One Heartbeat and the Last

_People like me and you, we should say things to one another._

He had said once that she'd never leave his head, to trust that she never would. That trust had been broken. Despite the tight grip that she held on him, he was slipping away. It was a struggle to breathe, the pain within her soundless chest spreading about her body. It wasn't fair, she thought, to feel so alive in the state she was in.

But she couldn't, never for him.

Breathing. Durable.

Mended.

"D-Doctor," she said in a whisper.

She shifted closer to him, never letting go of his hand still in hers. His body trembled slightly beside her.

She longed for his lips to brush her skin. For his curls to graze against her neck. She softly rested her head on his chest. It was warm, his hearts gently beating against her. She could feel them, their thumps of warmth and endurance echoing within her hollow frame. It was no longer silent when they touched. His hearts were hers.

Just like their daughter.

Resilient.

Vibrant.

Living.

 _Why can't I be like you?_

A stillness washed over him as she snuggled deeper into his chest. She found it easy to be tender, her finger tracing his hand steadily as she placed it against her own chest. No longer would he keep the writhing pains of her burning in his hand. She soothed him, letting the pain lash out across her body. She couldn't hold back the piercing sob that escaped her.

She could breathe.

 _Don't do it now._

"I-"

 _We've already had enough bad timing._

He already knew.

" _Why are they hard to say? Because it'll make it real?"_ she had once asked him.

" _No, because once you say it, you lose them."_ he replied.

She had to say it lose him.

Those three impossible words to her impossible Doctor.

Husband.

Friend.

Companion.

Doctor.

"How did you deal with the fear?" she asked. "When we found out?"

Silence.

" _I'm pregnant," she said. Her voice was soft, barely a whisper. "Doctor." Her eyes were wide, watering as she searched his face for a reaction. He finally looked at her, his face breaking into a smile. Relief spread across her body, yet an uneasiness was left in her gut. She looked down as she closed her eyes. He had placed a hand on her abdomen. "A girl."_

" _What?"_

" _I can feel that it's a girl."_

 _She felt him shaking as he lowered himself to kiss her stomach._

" _She'll look just like her mother."_

" _And an angel like her father."_

She had lost track of time until she heard the hum of the TARDIS. Time mattered. Now more than ever.

She could still feel.

She was utterly alive.

She raised herself up from his chest as carefully as she could. Out of habit, she caressed his cheek. She didn't want to leave him, but she had no other choice.

"I have to go Doctor," she said. Her legs slightly wobbled as she stood up from the floor. "I know that you won't remember, but remember this."

 _Yes, Boss._ she could hear him say.

"I love you, between one heartbeat and the last."

 _Between one heartbeat and the last._


	12. Together

_Maybe some of them become songs._

He began to question if he was dead, his eyes opening to the familiar hum of the console room. The smoke from below clouded his view of the rotators spinning above him. He squeezed his eyes shut, remembering the fire filling his vision, the scorching flames surrounding him.

 _Pity. No stars. I hoped there'd be stars._

His eyes popped open as he shot up from his spot. The metal underneath his feet echoed. Effortlessly, he took long strides about the room, hoping for something. A sound. A response. A sight from anyone.

"Bill? Nardole?" he started to shout.

Nothing.

He repeated shouting their names as he looked around the room once more.

Silence.

He reached the stairs facing a blackboard that appeared all too familiar.

 _Run you clever boy  
And be a Doctor_

He inhaled a sharp breath as his knees buckled under him. Staggering, he caught himself on the top step and sat down. He sniffed and wiped his eyes at the all too painful reminder of being the Doctor. Alone was all he was, all he ever seemed to be. Human after human. Loss after loss. Perhaps he was alive after all.

Or so he thought.

A hand caressed his cheek, brushing away the last tear that had travelled down it. He brought his eyes to look up at the figure in front of him. He was met with a pair of inflated, yet soft brown eyes.

"Doctor?"

His name left her lips as soft as a whisper.

"Clara?"

He set his hand on hers and once again like long ago, felt the familiar warmth and liveliness, the touch of a heartbeat against his skin. There was no longer a point of questioning weather he was dead or alive, he thought. Before giving Clara the chance to say another word, he lifted her off her feet and into his arms. It was back to the same old, same old. The Doctor and Clara Oswald in the TARDIS. Back together, at last.

The sound of their laughter engulfed the room as he spun her around. Just like the old days. The glory days. He gently placed her back on her feet as their laughter died down. His mouth opened to what she assumed was to ask a question, but she placed her finger to lips to stop him. His brows furrowed as she took his hand into hers and started walking towards halls deep into the TARDIS.

"There's someone who wants to meet you. Properly," she said.

The walk was not far, as they reached a door within a matter of seconds. His muscles tensed, frozen in place the moment she opened it. The white crib stood out against the black of the wall. His voice felt caught in his throat at the sight of the white dots. The constellations he had painted himself. The mobile of stars swung around in circles, moving as it had before. There was a difference in the room, however. A faint snore sounded from the crib. Clara squeezed his hand as they moved closer to it. Her lips curled into a soft smile when the child was in view. Their child. Lenore.

He reached his hand into the crib, brushing his finger gently across his daughter's cheek. He began to bite his lip, drops threatening to spill from his eyes as his hearts felt like they were about to burst. Slowly, his daughter's eyes opened. After a few blinks to gain sense of the world surrounding her, she caught the full sight of her father. His eyes were wet and so were her mother's.

"Her eyes," he started to say.

"Are a perfect mix of me and you," she finished.

As gently as he possibly could, he picked Lenore up from the crib and rocked her in his arms. She was heaven sent. Just like her mother. Exactly like her mother.

"How would you feel if we settled in the library? Like old times?" Clara asked, running her finger through his soft, silver curls.

"I couldn't think of a better place to settle," he said.

It was as if nothing had changed. The fireplace that was the only source of light within the library, the dim yet luminous flames illuminating the room. With Lenore still in his arms, Clara nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. Her heart thumped in her chest, a heat she had greatly missed spreading about her body. The crackle of the fire filled the silence between them.

"I love you, Clara Oswald."

She raised her head from his neck to look at him in his eyes.

"I love you, daft old man."

He brought his lips to hers.

They were going to do everything like they had always done, for the rest of their lives, together.

 _Together._


End file.
